


A Morning at the Vigil

by Aly_H



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinda, M/M, Oblivious Carver, Oghren being a butt, One-Shot, Slice of Life, Vigil's Keep, Warden Carver Hawke, Warden Life, i have no idea what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 02:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15500703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_H/pseuds/Aly_H
Summary: Just a typical morning at Vigil's Keep not long after Carver's adjusted to being a Warden. He's in for a bit of a surprise when the wrong person answers the Commander's door when he's to deliver a report.





	A Morning at the Vigil

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically this follows "Joining the Vigil" but can be read without reading it.

“Carver!” Oghren sounded entirely too cheerful, as he approached with a letter in hand. “I need you to take this very important report to the Commander right away. He’s still asleep.”

The Ferelden had been at the Vigil long enough to accept the parchment with a healthy dose of skepticism, narrowing his eyes in open suspicion at the dwarf. “This really can’t wait?”

The Commander was not a morning person. In fact he was usually a misery to be around until nearly noon most days. The prospect of waking him up didn’t have any appeal to the newest Warden in the Vigil.

That and he’d been up since sunrise, _he_ wanted his breakfast.

“Course not,” the red head snorted as he walked away.

Carver’s fellow Wardens were filing into the hall for breakfast around him at this point – arriving early hadn’t done him any good.

“I’ll save some of the honeyed biscuits for you, Puppy,” Linea stood on tiptoe to ruffle his hair before the blond elf went and collapsed into her usual chair at the table, sure to take a plate and actually set some of those biscuits aside as promised. (Food was not something to jest about around Wardens and he’d had an appetite on him even before his Joining.)

He sighed heavily and turned out of the main hall, picking his pace up to a trot in the hopes that the sooner this was done the sooner he might get breakfast.

The Commander’s rooms had been pointed out during the tour that Nathaniel had taken him on to so he could learn the Vigil’s layout, he was _fairly_ certain he’d knocked on the right door until it opened.

Messy haired still, and dressed in just trousers, a shirt in one hand – interrupted while dressing, then – was Nathaniel Howe. The older human raised a brow as Carver stared, heat rising in his cheeks. “Uh, sorry, wrong door.” He turned sharply – going to walk away. How had he gotten lost? He was certain Howe’s room was the one next to Oghren’s at the end of the same hall his was in. This one was the Commander’s, it was the only one on this hall, the others were the Commander’s study, Mistress Woolsey’s office…mentally he was trying to remember where the room might be when Nathaniel spoke:

“Are you looking for the Commander?”

“Who in Andraste’s name is it?” the muffled, irritable voice came from behind Nathaniel.

Carver’s eyes widened a fraction. _What_?

“Don’t get out of bed, you’re not wearing anything and Carver doesn’t want to see that,” Nathaniel threw over his shoulder as the blankets rustled, turning just enough that Carver could spot the flash of ginger colored hair as the Commander sat up in bed, glowering in the door’s direction.

He _had_ gotten the door right.

“…I, uh, Oghren asked me to deliver this,” he thrust the parchment at Nathaniel. He wanted to leave, _now_.

It wasn’t that it bothered him – the Commander and Nathaniel were closer than the other Wardens were. He’d watched them enough to know that, Van’s eyes tracked the human across a room even when busy with the business of trying to repair an Arling inherited in rough shape without talking Darkspawn. (A story Carver wouldn’t have believed except Nathaniel had sworn on Andraste that the Commander and Sigrun were telling the truth.)

He’d _heard_ the jokes that the others made about the marriage dates. Seen the familiar way that Nathaniel’s sister acted with the Commander. Even heard the flirting that had gone on – he’d just assumed it was all in play. That Nathaniel’s glowering response was due to not being amused, now he suspected it was the way he responded to embarrassment.

 “Carver?” Howe asked, a heavy sigh to his breath, raising both brows. “Everything alright?”

“Yessir,” he nodded, then winced at how quickly that had come out. That sounded just as bad. “I just, uh, I didn’t know. You two – sorry.” He wasn’t sure how to phrase what he was trying to say without sounding like a complete lunatic – or worse, his _brother_.

Maker, this was awkward.

“It’s not a secret. I just prefer not to make a show of it,” Nathaniel shrugged though his eyes softened a little even if he didn’t smile, opening the message to scan the contents – probably to make sure nothing needed to be sent off in reply. “Van – you’ll need to get dressed before noon. Arl Teagan is visiting.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” the elf groaned, and there was a flop as he covered himself entirely with the blanket. “Do I have to politic?”

“We can ask Velanna to do so instead.”

“I’ll politic. Also tell Carver to get his dress uniform made quickly. I’m pulling the Ostagar card at Denerim. He’ll need to look presentable.”

He might’ve asked what the elf meant except his stomach growled almost as loudly as a Darkspawn at that moment, pulling a short bark of laughter from the other Warden.

“Go on. Van will be downstairs soon whether he likes it or not.”

“I’d like to put on record that I do _not_ like it,” came the blanket muffled voice of their leader once more as the door was closing.

Carver blinked before he did as told – hopefully the biscuits that Linea had set aside were still warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoyed!


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